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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713768">This burning need</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyMortisRose/pseuds/EbonyMortisRose'>EbonyMortisRose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The story of Aubrey Jones [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vampyr (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Addiction, Blood and Injury, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Male Homosexuality, Mixed Signals</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:20:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyMortisRose/pseuds/EbonyMortisRose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A little something to invigorate the mind, a little something to quieten the voices, a little something to keep the dead wolf from Aubrey's door. Who needs sleep anyway?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The story of Aubrey Jones [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>This burning need</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>'Sleep, those little slices of death. Oh, how I loath them.'  - Edger Allen Poe.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore —<br/>While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping. As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.<br/>Tis some visitor,” -  Aubrey muttered -  “tapping at my chamber door, Only this and nothing more.”<br/><br/>A snigger escaped his lips as he glanced at the closed door behind him, partly obscured in shadow.<br/>He then tried to focus on the document in front of him, and couldn't stop his foot fidgeting under the desk where he sat.<br/>But the tapping continued, incessant, interrupting his thoughts, that were already running rampant like a wildfire, and he was finding it harder by the hour to get them under control.<br/>But most of all that damn little noise was starting to grate on his very nerves.<br/><br/>Scratch, tap. - Scratch, scratch. - Tap, tap. - His left eye began to twitch.<br/><br/>He knew it wasn't a raven, like what drove Poes protagonist to distraction in the poem. No bird could find its way past the "Lumbering oafs!" - Upstairs, he yelled looking at the ceiling.</p><p>No, his personal source of irritation was sculking within the very walls of the cellar. Their little feet skittering and scratching at the woodwork. Filthy creatures he thought, harbingers of disease.<br/>He rubbed at his itching nose with the back of his hand and then shook his chewed pencil at the wall, where the sounds were actually coming from.</p><p>“I know your game vermin. I know you have been sent by your Skal masters to spy on my progress!”</p><p>He then stands so abruptly, that his chair falls over backwards. But he paid it no heed, as he stalked across the room, and proceeded to press himself up against the damp cold cellar wall. <br/>He then rapped his knuckle upon its surface, as if to gain the occupant's attention.</p><p>“Do you hear me, vile creatures? You go forth and tell your rotting masters that your time is nigh! I have decoded William Marshal's memoirs!.”</p><p>He pushes his lips up against the mouldy brickwork and continues in a conspiratorial tone as if whispering into a cold dead ear.<br/><br/>“We know what's in there, don't we. The cause and the cure! Ho yes! You tried to hide it from me didn't you William? Hidden in prose and supposed prophecies. Twelve dreams for the Red Queen, humbug I say Sir!”</p><p>He spins, his oil lamp-lit world blurring momentarily, as he picks up his latest notes off his desk with a flourish.<br/><br/>“You caused the last disaster! And now our age is drowning in another putrid sea of pestilence. And I bet it's all your doing. Not this Red Queen that you rant about in your journal!<br/>Although in your time period, the hateful blood you speak of could be just that. A fever of the blood that drives a man, or monster, to extreme acts of violence...just like the beast that murdered my Percy.”<br/><br/>His brows furrow then and he grinds his teeth, suddenly filled with his own murderous rage. With a yell, he then screws up the paper and throws it back on to the desk.<br/>That's when his eyes settle on the little metal casket half-buried under more sheets of parchment.<br/>On noticing it, his temper cools and he delicately brushes aside the papers to reveal the intricately carved box in full.<br/><br/>“And then I found you.” - He whispers, stroking a hand across the gold filigree, tracing the outline of the small heraldic shield on its top.<br/><br/>“Do I have the strength to do what I must do? To take such a risk, to release the brave man I know is trapped inside of this weak and feeble shell?”</p><p>He then begins to chew his nail, the rest were already bitten down to the wick. But he found it satisfying to nibble on something; like a rat gnawing on a bone, his treacherous thoughts whispered.<br/>He then flicks those thoughts away with a hand, as if being troubled by an annoying invisible fly.<br/><br/>Then, suddenly he holds very still, listening. As he realised It had grown very quiet, too quiet he thought.<br/>It was so still in fact, that he was sure those above could hear his rapidly beating heart, which at that very moment was threatening to burst out of his eardrums.<br/><br/>He needed to calm down, he thought. Perhaps just a little sip, it couldn't hurt, right?<br/>No, he shouldn’t take anymore. But the need, the damnable need was talking over his every thought.<br/>He wasn’t a fool, he knew he was starting to rely on it to stay sane. He gave out another hysterical laugh. "Sanity was overrated in a world gone mad! " - he barked out.<br/><br/>He then began to unfasten his tie, as he felt beads of sweat trickled down his brow. It was becoming stifling in here, he wished he had a window he could open.<br/>Perhaps tea, he thought? Yes, a refreshing cup of Earl Grey that would help. There was a cup around here somewhere, he pondered.<br/><br/>He found the elusive item under yet more documents. And was in the process of bringing the cold contents up to his lips, when he noticed the brown liquid.<br/>It looked almost crimson in the light of the lamp, like blood. He sniffed at it and was sure he could detect a coppery note.<br/>He then saw to his horror, there was an eye staring back at him from its depths, and with a cry, he flung the offending article across the room.<br/>The china shattered on contact with the nearby wall, splattering its bloody contents over the paperwork he had pinned there.</p><p>He heard the rats chitter their amusement in the walls, and he clasped his hands over his ears trying to drown out their mocking susurrations.<br/>"Shut up, shut up!"<br/>His breathing was coming out laboured now like he had run a mile, and he knew he was on the verge of hysteria. It was the narcotics his rational mind tried to tell him.<br/><br/>“Why on earth would there be an eyeball in your damn teacup man? Get a grip, Aubrey!” He yelled at himself.</p><p>“Come on, rational, thinking, only!”<br/><br/>He took in a deep breath through his itching nose, and let it slowly out through his parched mouth.<br/>Then to prove to himself that the horrific sight was just part of a fevered delirium. He approached the broken china, as one would approach a sleeping lion. And nudged a large portion of the cup, that was still intact with the toe of his boot.<br/>The part still held a meagre mouthful of the offending liquid, and rocked with his touch, spilling its contents onto the stone floor, but produced no gruesome organs.<br/>He then let out a hysterical laugh and ran his hands through his greasy hair.<br/>He was losing touch with the real. But he had faced this fear without the need to calm his nerves with his tonic.<br/><br/>“So old chap.” He said. “You don't need the laudanum. You're in control, you don't need it. You. Don't. Need. It!”<br/><br/>But even as he spoke, he still tapped his breast pocket just to reassure himself that the bottle was still there.<br/>Sighing, he looked down once more at the shattered crockery, and as if in a dream reached out for a non-existent bell pull, to call the manservant to clean up the mess.<br/>He then stopped, realising how foolish that action was, and then remembered where he was. Then he was suddenly hit with a wave of melancholia, as he also remembered why he was here.<br/>His brow creased once more, and his lip began to tremble, as his thoughts turned to his lost love again.<br/><br/>“I will find a way to vanquish these monsters. I will harness the powers of both science and the supernatural to avenge you, my love.”<br/><br/>Sniffing, he scooped up the largest portion of the broken cup, and then instantly let it go with a shout. “Damn and blast it all to hell!”<br/><br/>A red slice, like a wicked grin, bloomed blood down the full length of his forefinger, which he quickly shoved into his mouth, and grimaced as it soon filled with the bitter metallic taste.<br/>He then reached into his inner pocket, looking for his handkerchief and instead grasped hold of a small envelope there.<br/>He pulled it out and studied the innocuous little packet, which he had written Arthurs B upon it.<br/>It held only a teaspoon of that most holy of relics contents. The supposed desiccated blood of King Arthur.<br/>And like all holy relics, they imbued some benefit to the faithful. And if the documents he had discovered were to be believed, the king's blood was supposed to make one brave, fearless and strong.<br/>He reasoned that the contents, take in a solution of water would either invigorate him or make him rather ill. He just needed the strength of character to try it.<br/><br/><em>Come on Aubrey,</em> he thought, stop being a bally coward.<br/>Still sucking on his bleeding appendage, he began to contemplate how best to take the ‘powder’. He'd need more tea if he were to drink it. Or perhaps he could snort it?<br/>He then was suddenly shaken from his ruminations when he heard.<br/><br/><strong><em>“Aubrey!”</em> </strong><br/><br/>His name was growled out in such a way, that he couldn't stop the yelp escaping his lips.<br/>And like a schoolboy caught filching, he quickly shoved the envelope under some papers on his desk and spun to meet his unexpected guest.<br/>That's when he saw them, two ice blue eyes glinting in the lamplight, staring at him out of the dark.<br/>Oh God! he thought, It had finally come for him. From his nightmares into his waking world. - The dead wolf.<br/><br/></p><p>******************************************</p><p>McCullum stared at the latest report in front of him. Squad 5 had found that bastard, Fishburn’s corpse in the sewer entrance near Pembroke bridge. Along with the decaying mound of his victims.<br/>Ever since Reid had turned him, he had sworn he would never take a human life. But surely the world was now a better place without that man in it, he thought.<br/>He’d made it look like a Skal attack, and was even tempted to throw his corpse in the Thames, where it belonged with the rest of the garbage.<br/>But deep down he knew that wasn't the real reason for wanting to hide the body. The real reason was that he wanted to hide what he had done, not from his men but from himself.<br/>His fangs throbbed in his gums at the memory of the kill. At how sweet his blood had tasted, laced with fear. - Nothing could compare to it, and the euphoric high after was like no drug on earth.</p><p>He wasn’t the only one who had given in to the beast inside. He had felt Reids kills through their bond and even tasted his victim's blood on his lips.<br/>And like the beasts they were, on those nights when they met up, riding the blood high. They had practically torn each other apart, just giving in to the want, the need.<br/>Sating themselves in their own flesh, and god help him he had enjoyed every moment of it.<br/><br/>He had begun to justify his actions, surmising that it was his duty to protect the weak citizens of London from monsters, and he knew all too well that they came in human form.<br/>A murderer here, a rapist there, these were the scum of the earth that no one would miss.<br/>But he knew the road to hell was paved with good intentions, and with each kill, the burning need inside grew more fierce.<br/>He could go back to hunting just Skals any time he wanted, he rationalised. Of course, he could.<br/>He had been a fighter all his life, and this was just another beast he had to face and beat. He didn't need human blood. - <em> He didn't!. <br/><br/></em> He ran his tongue absentmindedly over a fang, as he picked up another report and tried to concentrate on it.<br/>But there was another thing drawing his attention away from his mounting paperwork. The damn ruckus, Jones was making below his feet in the cellar.<br/>It wasn't his muffled ramblings that were becoming annoying, even if they were worrying.<br/>But it was the fact that he didn't need to use any of his damn abilities, to hear his erratic heartbeat.<br/>It was like he was playing a bloody drum down there, that vibrated through the very floorboards. And it was such a tempting rhythm, a siren call he knew he had to ignore. - He just had to!<br/>But he couldn't stop the intrusive thoughts of the beast. Reminding him that the man was all alone down there. He even had better control of his mind control skill, and it would so easy to...<br/><br/>“No! Sweet Jesus McCullum, he’s one of your men. How would ya justify that!”<br/><br/>He stood, slamming his hands down on the desk, momentarily drowning out the incessant drum beat. But it didn't stop those wicked thoughts, the hunger demanding to be sated.<br/>He foolishly hadn't fed yet, and it was already getting late.<br/>He’d just been too caught up in trying to carry on this charade of being their mighty fecking leader.<br/>Sorting rotas, reading and processing reports, training new recruits, dealing with casualties, dealing with fecking funerals! There was just not enough hours in the night.<br/>And Reid was in no better situation than he, working himself ragged trying to find the fecking cause of this epidemic.<br/>They both knew, it sure as hell wasn't just the Spanish flu ravaging the poor feckers out there. He insisted it was something else, something worse than anything they had dealt with to date. God he hoped he was wrong.<br/><br/>That reminded him, he’d asked for King Arthur's blood. Said it was part of some ancient cure.<br/>He knew from personal experience it was powerful stuff. And shakes his head at the memory of when he was so stupid as to drink a drop of it. Just to give him an edge when he once faced off against Reid.<br/>He still remembers how it made him feel like he was invincible. And he was even able to stand a few rounds against the powerful vampire.<br/>But like any drug, it quickly wore off, and he paid the ultimate price for his folly.<br/><br/>A small part of him still hated Reid for turning him that night. But he had to admit, being this creature of deceit had its benefits.<br/>He thrilled at the fact, that he was able to best most of the other leeches that crossed his path. And healing from wounds that would have outright meant death for him, if he were still mortal, had come in handy on quite a few occasions.<br/>The only flaw was this insatiable hunger, that even now gnawed at his gut.<br/><br/>He hoped Reid could get the rest of his ingredients soon. Because the evidence in front of him was showing that things were going to shite out there, really fast.<br/>He had fresh reports every night of new Skal infestations. Followed by too eager, new recruits, wanting to avenge their fallen loved ones. <br/>Their hearts were in the right place, and the old McCullum would have been more than happy to mould that hatred for the vile beasts into a useful weapon.<br/>But he could not ignore the confused looks and whispers behind his back when he told them to avoid a certain leech doctor. </p><p>He picked up another docket, reading the report of yet another rookie found dead. And shook his head, yet another funeral he had to prepare.<br/>He gritted his teeth thinking, why? why didn't they just heed his warning? He couldn't blame Reid for defending himself.<br/>The overwhelming tide of sorrow and regret, when they next met after such incidents, was almost palpable in the bond between them.<br/>He was trying so hard to be a good man, they both were. But the world wasn’t black and white anymore. It was shades of grey and crimson.<br/><br/>He ran his hand through his short brown hair and would have sighed if he had the breath in his lungs. Instead, he opted to pull out a cigarette.<br/>He couldn't inhale the vapours, but he liked the smell, it calmed him, like Reid and his bloody tea. That thought made him smile, his bloody Gentleman vampire.</p><p>He was about to light it, when he caught the delicious iron scent of blood in the air. It was coming from the cellar.<br/>The cigarette fell from his lips as the beast in his gut roared, and In a blur of shadow he was instantly in the cellar, eyes locked on the erratically thrumming red silhouette before him.<br/>There was no ventilation in this dank, dark space, and so his senses were overloaded with the thick scent of body sweat, and sweet, sweet, fresh blood.<br/><br/><b> <em>“Aubrey”</em> </b> - It was supposed to come out as a warning. But instead rumbled off his lips filled with wanton desire.<br/><br/><br/>********************************</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus Christ!” -  Aubrey cried out, backing up against his desk and frantically felt behind him for any weapon. Keeping his eyes locked on those demonic ones.<br/>His hand only managed to grasp hold of his manky half chewed pencil. Which he still thrust in front of himself as if it were a long sword.<br/><br/>Then to his confusion and relief, Geoffrey McCullum stepped out of the shadows.<br/>He hadn't heard him enter, but his heart was pounding so loud in his ears, it was no surprise it had drowned out his footfalls.<br/>He then gave out a nervous laugh and ran a shaking hand through his greasy locks, swallowed and stammered out.<br/><br/>“Ah, sir it's you. I thought you were something else for a moment there!”<br/><br/>McCullum didn't answer, just continued to stare. His blue eyes fixed on his now bloody trembling hand holding the pencil.<br/>The fixed gaze had a hungry look about it, and as it continued without any indication that speech was to follow, it started to unnerve him.<br/>So he gave another nervous laugh, threw the sticky implement behind him and stuck his finger in his mouth, and proceed to mumble around it.<br/><br/>“Th’orry, thir. You thstartled me. How can I help you?”</p><p><br/><br/>It took every ounce of McCullum's will not to dart after the flung pencil like a dog chasing a bone. And with his teeth clenched, and hands balled into fists, he ground out.<br/><br/>“Blood...I’m here for the blood.” He meant to say Arthurs blood, but it would be a half-truth.<br/><br/>His eyes then traced the veins and arteries thrumming up Aubrey's arm and settled on his lips, now sucking the blood off the wounded digit. And couldn't help licking his own suddenly parched lips, imagining how they would taste.</p><p> </p><p>Oh god, Aubrey thought, he knows. He knows he has interfered with a holy relic. But how did he know?<br/>Were they spying on him? Making sure he was a good little scholar?<br/>Well, there was no escaping it now. He wondered what punishment he would receive. Nothing could be worse than being forced to clean McKenzie's undergarments. Well, there was sewer duty.<br/>He had to lie, he frantically thought, he had to think of something.<br/>The contents were old, exposure to the light had made the already fragile vial's contents disintegrate. Yes, that sounded plausible. Or hmmm...<br/>Whilst he pondered, he turned, and pulled out his injured finger from his mouth with a wet plop and picked up the little casket.</p><p>“I really, truly am sorry Sir. I don't know what happened to it I...Aaah!”<br/><br/>When he turned back, McCullum was right there in front of him. If it were not for the fact the box was between them, they would have been nose to nose. <br/>He was then suddenly overcome with a dizzying feeling of deja vu, as he stared into those ice blue pools. And felt a flush of heat rise to his cheeks.<br/><br/><br/>Aubrey was saying something, but it was like his head was underwater. And the only invasive sound that surrounded him was the wub, dub, of the man's heartbeat.<br/>He watched enraptured, as the capillaries on his face expanded, causing his cheeks to flush. This close he could smell the heady scent of fear soaked sweat, musky adrenaline, and the spice of something else?<br/><br/><br/>Mccullum was staring at his lips with a strange look, that Aubrey was trying to interpret as anything but what his frazzled brain was screaming it only could be, lust, surely not?<br/>But it can't be. He must be having a psychotic break, this could not be happening, it had to be a dream.<br/>Of course, he had dreamt of encounters like this before. He was a man, after all, he had needs, urges.<br/>But then he realised, never in his dreams was he ever in pain. And right now he was gripping the casket between them so tight, his cut digit was sending sharp signals to his overtaxed brain.<br/>That this Aubrey jones was actually happening. - What should he do? He frantically thought.<br/><br/>“Sir?”<br/><br/>His word came out as a pathetic squeak, and as he tried to swallow his nerves, to try and speak again. He watched as McCullum's eyes darted down to his throat, following the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down.<br/>Then those haunting blue eyes traced back up to his lips.<br/>Damn it, Aubrey, he thought if the man was going to kiss you he would have done it by now. So clearly he's so furious with you he's lost the ability to speak and is obviously contemplating how to end your life. <br/>He had to make a move, had to get out of this increasingly awkward situation.<br/>He could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his brow, as he fiddled with the clasp at the front of the box, and then froze once more when his fingers brushed the man's belt buckle. Ho god!...<br/>He was starting to feel lightheaded with the utter absurdity of this situation. And so leaned slightly back onto the desk, so that he could bring the boxes latch successfully up, and no longer be in contact with the mans lower regions.<br/>Once up, he quickly whipped open the lid and retrieved the vial with his injured hand. All thoughts of the cut now forgotten and waved the object in front of McCullum's face as if it were a holy talisman.<br/><br/>“Here it is, the blood...well what's left of it. Please don't kill me, I can still be useful!”<br/><br/>McCullum's eyes instantly zeroed in on it, his pupils in this dim light had blown wide, reducing the blue irises to a cold glimmering corona.<br/>He then blinked and shook his head and gave the impression of someone coming out of a trance-like state.<br/>When he spoke next, it came out coarse as though the man was desperate for a drink of water.<br/><br/>"The what?...the blood of the king? What's wrong with it?"<br/><br/>McCullum snatched the vial from him with such speed, he almost went with it.<br/>He then watched as the man turned, and marched over to a nearby wall lamp, and held it up to the light to better inspect its contents.<br/><br/></p><p>McCullum stared intently at the vial, not at the rust powder within, but at the smudged blood that coated its surface.<br/>The damn air was saturated with Aubery's blood, and he had come so close, <em>too close, </em>to taking what he wanted.<br/>He was so lucky he had mentioned Arthurs blood and had taken it out of its case.<br/>Because apart from the burning hunger inside, his only other overriding thought was saving this damned city, and for that Reid needed this vital ingredient.<br/>When he had mentioned something was wrong with it, all focus had gone to that statement. He would never know how close he came to death, <em>for a second time</em>.<br/>Actually, now looking at the contents, he couldn't see anything wrong with it and voiced his query.<br/><br/>“what's wrong with it?”<br/><br/></p><p>"Wrong?...Some of its missing. I...erm...think when I exposed it to the air when studying it, it may have partially evaporated." - God that excuse sounded so pathetic, and Aubrey immediately regretted it leaving his trembling lips.</p><p>He needed to calm down, needed to think straight. His hand slid slowly into his breast pocket, with half the intention of retrieving his handkerchief, but his fingers brushed against the lid of his true goal.<br/>He could just quickly take a small sip, just to ease his mind. Just to take the harsh edges of this whole debacle. Just a little couldn't hurt, right?<br/><br/></p><p>"Ah...yes, I see. Aye, some is missing.”<br/><br/>McCullum was tempted to let the man continue to believe he was responsible. But he had already put him through so much.<br/><br/>"I..erm...I sent a few drops to the blood doctor, doctor Reid. Ta make sure it really was what it said on the tin. Him being a specialist and all.”<br/><br/>More lies he thought, his new life seemed to be built on them. He then watched as a tiny droplet of blood ran down the glass, and pooled on his pale thumb.<br/>Just a small taste he thought. Just a little to take the edge off. He had his back to the man, he wouldn't notice, would he?<br/><br/><br/>Aubrey slowly took the bottle out of his pocket, along with his handkerchief. And had just finished knotting the material around his finger, when what McCullum had just said actually registered with his ears.<br/>He had taken some out too. Oh, thank the gods!<br/>Relief washed over him, as his hands moved of their own volition and began unscrewing the cap off the bottle of laudanum.<br/><br/><br/>Mccullum brought the vial right up to his nose and breathed in the scent of the blood. What was that other thing he could detect?<br/>He then heard Aubrey give a sigh of relief, evidently believing his lies. But he noted the man's heart still raced, which was odd.<br/>But, when he heard the almost imperceptible sound of a bottles cap being unscrewed, and then smelled the pungent odour of cloves as it drifted into the air; he knew what was the cause of his palpitations.<br/><br/>“Don’t,” he growled, back still turned.<br/><br/>And Aubrey froze, the bottle halfway to his lips.<br/><br/>McCullum shoved the vial in his pocket and turned back to face the man. And sure enough, there he stood like a kid caught with his hand in the biscuit jar. The lip of the bottle inches from his lips, his eyes wide, eyebrows raised.<br/><br/>“What tha hell is that shite?”<br/><br/>He marched over, and snatched the bottle from Aubrey's hand, and looked at its label. Then back at the man, whose shocked expression had suddenly turned to righteous indignation.<br/><br/>“My medicine.”<br/><br/>“Bullshit, try again.”<br/><br/>“I need it sir,” Aubrey whined. He was pleading, he didn't care. He had no right. He wasn't a doctor.<br/><br/>“No, ya don't!”<br/><br/>“I do!”<br/><br/>“Why, tell mi.”<br/><br/>Aubrey was of half a mind to try and snatch the bottle back. But he knew he would probably get knocked up the side of his head for his trouble. Instead, he threw his hands in the air, then balled them into fists at his sides.<br/><br/>“Damn you, Sir! You have no idea how hard it is. Pretending night, after night, to be something you are not.<br/>Because if you were to let the mask slip for a second, you would lose the respect of you're new friends, and family you have acquired, and might I add longed for!”</p><p>He takes a deep breath and continues in a softer tone. “I just...I just don't want to let you down.”<br/><br/>McCullum shakes his head and looks at the man's red raw eyes. When had he last slept he wondered?<br/><br/>“Oh shit Jones. I know what it's like to pretend ta be something your not, believe me.”<br/><br/>Aubrey can't help give out a snort of derision. As if the mighty Geoffrey McCullum could possibly know what it's like to be in his shoes.<br/><br/>McCullum just hefts the bottle, actually glad that the strong herbal narcotics scent, was now masking the delicate undertones of Aubrey's blood in the room.<br/><br/>“Seriously, you don't need this shite. What ya need is a good night's rest.”</p><p>“I can’t sleep. It’s always there, waiting just behind my eyelids.” Aubrey wanted to add, that he thought moments earlier, it had come into this very room. But the man already thought he was unhinged.<br/>So he kept that statement to himself.<br/><br/>“Jo...Aubrey, what are ya afraid of?”<br/><br/>Aubrey looked around the room inspecting every shadow, worried that if he were to speak of it out loud, it just might manifest.<br/>He looks back into the Irishman's eyes, which appeared to have softened somehow. No longer the pools of ice, but a more muted baby blue; that, married with his creased brow only conveyed concern. Nothing more.<br/><br/>“You are going to think me mad. But I am being hunted sir, night after night by a dead wolf. It wears a red scarf. the colour of blood. And its eyes, Oh god, its eyes burn with such hunger.<br/>And the worst of it is, it speaks. It mocks me. It actually tells me to forget I have seen it. But how could I forget such a monstrous creature?”<br/><br/>He then rubs his eyes vigorously, trying to banish the recalled image from his mind. He would not let that thing invalid his daylight hours he thought.<br/><br/>McCullum looked at the exhausted man and couldn't stop himself saying out loud.<br/><br/>“Oh sweet Mary, I’m so sorry. What have I done ta ya.”</p><p>Aubrey looked back at McCullum with a look of confusion, then thought he must be referring to the extra duties he had given to him.<br/>It was a monumental task, and there were still at least a dozen creates he had yet to go through and catalogue. But he knew how important it was to the cause.<br/>Sacrificing a few days sleep, was well worth the progress he had achieved in such a short time period.<br/>It was his choice to use stimulants to keep him awake. It was his choice to overdose on the tonics to send him into a dreamless sleep.<br/>But he was no fool. He knew he relied on those toxins now. He couldn’t pass an hour without thinking about them, craving them.<br/>He sighed, ashamed, and looked down at the bottle McCullum still held in his hands.<br/><br/>“None of this is your fault, Sir. You have been nothing but kind to me.”<br/><br/>He suddenly felt so tired, his eyes prickled and felt sore when he blinked, and his stomach ached. He couldn't actually remember the last time he had eaten.<br/><br/>“I don’t think I have the strength to deny my new addiction. God help me, it's taking over my every waking moment.” He then huffs out a mirthless laugh.<br/>“I thought I had it under control, but all along it was controlling me. I’m going to end up on a park bench just like my father.”<br/><br/>McCullum gently grabs the man by the top of one of his shoulders and squeezes.<br/><br/>“Hey, look at me.”  Aubrey does raise his sad watery eyes to him, and he can't help feel like the biggest shit in the world right then.<br/>“No, you're not gonna end up like that, I won't let ya! I know what you're going through.”<br/><br/>Despite seeing Aubrey roll his eyes, he continues on.<br/>“Trust me I do. I...know someone, who describes his addiction just like that. A burning need, that tries to drive his actions every night.”<br/><br/>Aubrey raises an eyebrow then. “Your talking about your Doctor Reid aren’t you?"</p><p>“Er...Aye, Reid.”<br/><br/>“It's alright, I understand he is a creature to be feared. But I can not reconcile this fabled devil doctor, with the considerate man I conversed with a few weeks ago.<br/>Surely he can not have slipped so far from grace, in such a short time? The reports of the murders he is supposed to have committed must be exaggerated.”<br/><br/>It was McCullum's turn to look down at the floor, with a look on his face that Aubrey would probably mistake for sadness, but was in fact shame.<br/><br/>“Like any addict Aubrey, there is a constant battle inside, urging them on ta get their next fix, at any cost. Lost in that high nothing matters, all this shitty world and its problems disappear.<br/>They don't realise their need is turning them into a monster, hurting all those they care about.”<br/><br/>Little black flecks had started to dance in Aubrey's vision, as he tried to pay attention to McCallum's words. He didn't realise he had staggered back until he felt the man's hand tighten on his shoulder, holding him steady.<br/><br/>“Whooa, ya alright?”</p><p>Aubrey then grabbed the wrist of McCullum's hand that was on his shoulder and held out his other hand to try to regain his equilibrium. He waited a moment like that for the world to stop spinning.<br/>Then gave a reassuring nod to the man, letting him know it was alright to let him go, and that he wasn't about to collapse to the floor.<br/><br/>“Self love my liege is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting.”<br/><br/>Aubrey's eyebrows suddenly shoot up in surprise. “Did you...did you just quote Shakespeare?"<br/><br/>McCullum gave a cheeky, closed mouth smile, not trusting his glamour in his hungry state to mask his fangs.</p><p>“Aye, I may look a little rough around tha edges. An not gone ta any fancy school, but I know mi letters. So never judge a book by its cover Aubrey. I avn't wi you."<br/><br/>Aubrey just stands, mouth gaping as the man continues.<br/><br/>"You are as good as any man under mi. But you toffs have one bloody thing in common, and it's working ya selves too damn hard. And being so dramatic about it! God, you remind me so much of him.”<br/><br/>“Him?”<br/><br/>“Never mind. Now...” McCullum looks around the room, and spots the bed in the corner, and gently steers Aubrey towards it.<br/><br/>“Now you are gonna get some sleep. That's an order.”<br/><br/>Even as Aubrey is muttering “I can not, I have too much still to do.” his feet plod in the direction of the single wire framed bed.<br/><br/>“Aye, it can wait.”<br/><br/>On his way to the bed, McCullum stoops and puts the Laudinum behind a nearby crate, then directs the dishevelled man to the bed and gently pushes him down onto it.<br/><br/>“But the wolf...he's waiting for me.”  Aubrey's voice came out like a tried frightened child.<br/>He hated showing such weakness in front of such a brave man. But he was so physically and mentally exhausted all he could do was plead. “I'm scared.”<br/><br/>McCullum grabbed a nearby wool blanket and threw it over the man, as he feebly tried to resist laying down. Then once settled, he leaned over him and looked deep into those frightened green eyes, trying so desperately to stay open.<br/>And spoke in a low deep voice laced with compulsion.<br/><br/><em> <b>“Look at me Aubrey, You're going to go to sleep. There will be no wolf hunting you tonight.<br/>I will keep the beast at bay. Dream instead of your love, and happier times and wake tomorrow rested and refreshed.”</b> </em></p><p>He then watches as the man's eyes flutter closed, and within minutes his breathing becomes slow and steady. Even the creases of tension on his face disappear as a deep sleep takes hold. <br/>He then stands and slowly looks the man over, and can't help think how alike he and Jonathan were.<br/>Both were gentlemen thrown into a world of monsters, both losing a loved one to a beast, and now both burning themselves out trying to help others.<br/>Aubrey was just another burden he had to bear, another person he had to stop going over the edge.<br/>He was like this, because of his fuck up, and now it was his responsibility to make sure he didn't give in.<br/><br/>He reaches into his breast pocket, and pulls out a small gold locket, he didn't have the heart to take to the pawnbrokers. <br/>Clicking it open, he sees within, behind a tiny oval of glass, is a small plat, made up of a piece of blonde and dark brown hair, that is tied off with a small black bow. And on it's back is the engraved initials P.H &amp; A.J<br/>It was wrong of them to take this from him, he thought, as he crossed to the desk and found an empty envelope there, and a scrap of paper.<br/>He then proceeded to write a small note and placed both items in the envelope and left it on a crate by his bedside. At least he could right this wrong.<br/><br/>He then whispers “I am sorry Aubrey” As he closes the cellars door quietly behind him.</p><p>Marching up the steps, his now ravenous beast inside fuelled his mounting rage, as he realised that he couldn't fight his own need any longer.<br/>He couldn't stop becoming the very thing carl eldritch had trained into him to hunt, all those years ago, a bloodthirsty leech!<br/>His aura of self-loathing was so palpable, that any men that crossed his path as he exited the building, quickly took one look at his thunderous expression and moved out of his way.<br/>Even the burly general McKenzie cringed as he passed, and shook his head at the others.<br/><br/>"Fuck me, did he just come from the cellar? Do ya think we should check on Toff?"<br/><br/>Suddenly, McCullum was behind him, no one had seen him turn back.<br/><br/>"Ya leave him be. He's been through enough! See ta him in tha mornin." And before anyone could reply he had spun once more on his heels, and marched out of the yard.<br/><br/></p><p> *********************<br/><br/><br/>The Skal he found at Stonebridge cemetery didn't even have time to cry out as McCallum's full wrath descended upon it. Like a nightmare made up of sharp teeth, claws and shadow.<br/>He tore into the thing as if it were its fault, its blood now tasted to him like warm water.<br/>He ripped open its guts and pummelled it's foul rotting face to a bloody pulp. As if it were the one personally responsible for causing Aubrey so much pain.<br/>He rent it limb from limb, coating himself in black gore and viscera, and howled all the while, like one of them. like the beast, he was under his fading mask of humanity.<br/>His rage and sorrow boiled over in his eyes and began running as corrupted tears down his blood-splattered face.</p><p>He was so lost in his red haze of his hatred, he didn't even sense Jonathan approach.<br/>Only noticing his presence when he finally, physically and mentally exhausted, slumped to his knees in the filth. And was then hit by waves of concern through their mental link.<br/>He then tried to spit out as much of the vile things blood as possible, grimacing at the taste and then realised something.<br/><br/>“It's not enough.” - he croaked out, still letting the bloody tears run freely. It was pointless to try and hide them. Reid knew exactly how he was feeling right now.<br/>“It will never be enough, ever again will it?”</p><p>“No” Jonathan's low baritone reflected the same sadness.</p><p>“This hunger, this need, is burning me up inside. I can't fight it.” </p><p>Jonathan slowly approaches the man, ignoring the mounds of flesh that surrounded him, and crouched, cupping his face in his cold elegant hands and stared into those tortured ice blue pools.<br/>He noted that the whites were now flecked with red, showing the stains on his soul. He knew the more human lives he took, the more corrupted those beautiful orbs would become, just like his own.</p><p><em> 'Help me, the hunger is consuming me.' - </em> his hunter begged across the bond. <em><br/></em></p><p>Jonathan rubs away the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs and rumbled out in a soothing tone.</p><p>"And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.”</p><p>Mccullum raised an eyebrow in confusion. He knew it was more damn Shakespeare, but he wasn't in the right frame of mind to decode it.</p><p>Jonathan picked up on his query through their link and give a sad smile. “Our combined strength can best any bestial urges, my dear hunter.”<br/>He then tilts his head to one side exposing his pale neck.  “Just only drink from me if you wish, there is always a choice.”<br/><br/>McCullum's eyes drift from Jonathans, down to that smooth tempting throat, and settle on a blue vein that pulsed ever so slowly there.<br/>He hated that he wanted it more than anything right now, and growled out. “I hate you.”</p><p>“I know.” Jonathan sadly replied.</p><p>McCullum then just lunges forward, sinking his fangs into that supple flesh, and is soon consumed in a red sea of ecstasy.</p><p>
  <em> 'I love you.' </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 'I know.'</em>
</p><p>*****************************</p><p>For the first time in months, Aubrey is reluctant to let the last remnants of his dream leave him. He could still feel the ghost of a kiss on his lips as he sat up in his bed.<br/>There were no windows down here in the cellar, but the room was still lit with the warm glow of the oil lamps.<br/>Yawning, he surveyed his surroundings and noticed on a crate next to him was a pot of tea, a plate of what looked like spam sandwiches, and a letter addressed to him.<br/>His stomach demanded he go first for the sandwiches, but his curiosity won that battle and he quickly opened up the envelope.</p><p>There was something bulky inside and he tipped it out onto his palm, and then took in a sharp intake of breath.<br/>It was his locket, his precious locket!<br/>He immediately brought it to his lips and kissed it, tears pooling in his eyes. You've returned to me my love he thought.<br/>He then read the enclosed note.</p><p><em> ‘Found the man who attacked you. He’d become a monster, it wasn't his choice.<br/>I put him to rest and found this on him. </em> <em><br/></em> <em> Stay strong, keep fighting that need inside. </em> <em><br/><br/></em> <em> P.s Get a wash and some fresh air that's an order. <br/><br/>G</em><em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> Aubrey smiles wiping the stray tear from his eye and says out loud with conviction.<br/><br/>“Yes Sir.”</p><p>***********************************<br/>Tom Holland/Sleepy Hollow/I have no rights to this image. (how i picture my Aubrey.)<br/><br/></p>
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